


A future not for me to dream of

by o0_Kiyomitsu_0o



Series: Times we met but didn't know [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes as the Asset, Bucky would have been a tech-nerd if he had gotten the chance, Distorted Self-Perception, Gen, Howard Stark (mentioned) - Freeform, Oblivious Tony Stark, One-Sided Attraction, Tony doesn't know what's going on, Tony fighting for equal chances, Violence (mentioned), duel of assassins, i still don't know how to tag, i wrote this on the train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 16:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30041355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0_Kiyomitsu_0o/pseuds/o0_Kiyomitsu_0o
Summary: A chase between the asset and his target. A grand opening of a science center. Another moment out of the assets life.
Series: Times we met but didn't know [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2184354
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	A future not for me to dream of

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for your interest in reading my story (^w^)
> 
> Before you continue, please note that I'm neither an native English- nor an native Russian-speaker aaaand I didn't have a Beta-reader to sort through my mistakes, so please excuse my grammar and my spelling.
> 
> This little drabble suddenly popped up, while I was on a train-ride. It's not as dark as some of the previous parts, but I wouldn't call it light-hearted either. Still I hope you enjoy your time here though (^w^)7
> 
> Translations at the end (I used an online-translator, please correct me if the internet betrayed me Ó.ò)
> 
> Even if it doesn't look like it, I really love both character, I swear! At some point I want to see them happy.
> 
> If you notice anything, please let me know so I can correct it right away (n.n)

The asset was kneeling in an abandoned carpentry, preparing his backpack, mostly filled with cartridges and the dissembled riffle he had been carrying through the better part of Russia and Europe for the last few weeks. He was on a hunt, that had started with an attempted assassination of one of Hydras leading operators. 

As soon as it had gotten obvious, that the failed attempt had just been a glimpse of an uprising crime syndicate trying to gain more influence through elimination of their competitors, hydra had sprung into action. Going after one of Hydras heads was one thing, but failing to finish the mission would result in said head to take it personally. Hellfire would rain and the asset was sent to unleash the storm this syndicate had conjured up on themselves. 

His handler had given him a picture of the target, a lanky, strawberry-blond man, half hidden by a black fedora. A merchant specialized in long range shots. The order was unequivocal as well as his instructions regarding the procedure. Find the man. Take him out. Bring back the head. This was about making a statement rather than anything else. The asset had been given a new riffle together with his usual tactical gear and the backpack filled with ammunition and the minimum of protein-bars, that would keep his energy level high enough for the next four weeks. 

The fifth week was ending the next day. The asset noticing the lack of nutrition more and more with every passing day. He would have to finish the mission within the next week, to avoid failure of body functions. 

The chase was taking its toll on the asset. He had crossed more borders during the last few days, than he had stopped to take mandatory naps, but stopping would have meant losing track of the target, who was nearly as hard to find as a widow going into hiding. As an assassin with a good enough reputation in the lower circles of the underworld, the target knew how to dodge the public. The asset went through the information he had given, as well as the ones, he had been able to gather himself. 

The target was a merchant, Italian. Mostly used as a sniper for assassinations. First half of his life a serving Sargent in the army, but had started to work for the Sicilian mafia shortly after his return. One of the best you could get for your money or so his handler had pressed out through gritted teeth, before the asset was grabbed by the collar of his undershirt and pulled down so he was face to face with the fuming man. ‘Ты убьешь его выстрелом в голову и принесешь мне голову. Я покажу им, что происходит с теми, кто бросает нам вызов.’ The asset had frozen in the face of his handlers seething rage, he hadn’t waited for a confirmation anyways instead storming out of the cell. It was a cold reminder, that failure and defiance would be unacceptable. 

The first real chance for the asset had presented itself at a train station somewhere close to the Swiss alps after one week of constant searching and running to catch up with the target. The line of fire could have been better, but the asset would make do. He readied the scope, brushing away the pine-needles obscuring the vision. The forest floor cold and mushy.

The asset was aiming right between the target’s leery green eyes, that reminded the asset of the alley-cats fighting for. The wind rose. One more adjustment and the mission was over. A steadying breath, aim, aim, aim and... snap. A loud crack broke through the forest, only it hadn’t been the sound of assets riffle. The asset scrambled back onto his feet. One of the landlines had snapped, causing a small explosion that blacked out the lights of the station in the process. 

The sudden bustle as well as the lack light, nearly caused the asset to lose his target. He couldn’t waste any time on his pursuit of the man, who was already half way out of the station, hailing a cab. The asset had to hurry. Failure was unacceptable.

The following days were filled with hitch-hiked train rides, and dingy hide-outs. The target always one step ahead, leaving his locations only moments before the asset had a chance to get into position, to get a clear shot. 

It took another two weeks until the asset finally caught up with the target again. The target was sitting in a busy little café in one of Verona’s main-streets. He was talking with a slimy looking man, the kind of, the asset had seen walk in and out of Hydras’ hide-outs, the kind he had hunted down if they had started to get bothersome to his handlers. 

The asset had been to far way to catch anything over the city-street noises, but since the other man was sliding a piece of paper over the table that was followed by a suspiciously bulging envelope it wasn’t hard to gauge, that the target had accepted a new assignment.

The mission was already going on for too long. The asset had to end it as soon as possible. He stepped out of the shadow of his hiding spot behind the street corner. He quickly weaved his way through the bustle, crossing the street so he could pass the target just in time to get a glimpse of the piece of paper, that was about to disappear in the mans into his front pocket. It had been a candid-shot of a man the asset had seen on various business magazines, decorating newsstands he had passed on his chase with a date scribbled onto it.

The asset kept walking down the crowded until he passed a newspaper stand. It wasn’t difficult to snatch one of the magazines featuring the brown-haired man from the display piles. Rolled paper in hand, he rounded corners and jumped fences until the asset was standing the backyard of an abandoned carpentry, where his temporary hide out was stationed. He skimmed through the colourful pages, until he found the headlines, he had been searching for. ‘CEO of Stark Industries visiting Italy’, ‘Tony Stark, Latin lover?! Genius-Playboy seen leaving hotel with unknown woman.’, ‘This Friday!!! Grand opening of the new science centre. Guest of honour, Tony Stark, will be holding opening speech’. That was it. The target would take it’s shot right there.

The asset was crouching behind one of the stage lights hung high in the great lecture hall of the building. He hadn’t bothered to set up the riffle, the small metal bridge barley offering enough space for the asset to lie down. It didn’t matter. The asset was a good shot with the 92FS as well. The silencer would suppress the sound enough for it to get lost in the noises, that was beginning to fill the open space below him. 

The asset couldn’t see the stage. He hadn’t had to. His target was the man taking the supposed position granting a free line of fire towards the stage. The asset would have chosen the same spot, if the brunet orator had been his target. From behind the light, he had a direct line of sight and so he watched the target ready his own rifle and scope. The steel beam the other was standing on broad enough, to allow him to set up his trademark weapon. 

The asset readied unlocked the guns safety the moment the lights in the room began to fade. The air was bristling with tension. The crowed beneath the two snipers humming in anticipation for what was about to start. The asset slowed his breathing. He used his metal arm to steady his hold.

‘Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the grand opening of our new science centre....’ the metallic voice of a woman broke through the silence. Neither of the two men, hiding in the shadows of the ceilings steal-beam construction moved. ‘... It is my deepest joy and greatest pleasure to welcome one of the greatest minds of our time. He is the inventor of the most successful technology integrated in our everyday lives the world has ever see. The CEO of the stock exchanges leading company. A self-made hero, but first and foremost, at least for today, he is the patron of this wonderful building, that will allow us and all the generations following to form and build and create our future. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our guest of honour: Mr. Tony Stark...’

The applause and cheers, that exploded beneath the asset drowned out everything. Even without the silencer, no one would have heard the single shot ripping through the air, or the soft thud of the targets head fall down against the steel beam. His hand stilled in the moment of pulling the trigger. It was a shot the sniper wouldn’t shoot anymore.

The asset balanced over cables and around the lights attached on the pipes and beams, until he was standing over the dead body. The asset turned around. It was indeed the perfect spot to hit the man, who had just stepped on stage right between the eyes. 

The asset raised his gun, aiming at the man walking towards the lectern with open arms, smiling and waving at the audience without a care in the world. It would be so easy. The asset wondered, why his target had even bothered to bring a scope. Going by the information the asset had about the man, he should have been able to hit the happily laughing man just like that. The asset pulled his trigger.

The sharply dressed man waved at the floor to ceiling holographic screen behind him as he began to speak, welcoming everyone present and virtually connected before he started to go into the highlights and details of the building, they were located in. The asset lowered the empty gun, no need to end the targets job, the asset had his own mission to fulfill.

It wouldn’t take long for the asset to separate the trophy his handler had demanded from the rest of the limp heap of flesh lying next to him. He still had to dispose the rest of the target though. He pulled out the body bag and started to stuff the cooling body inside to avoid any unnecessary risks of getting spotted for something like blood dripping from the steel-beam. He had to wait for the crowd to leave the auditorium to finish his mission. 

In lack of anything more useful to do, the asset sat down, scanning the holo-screen projecting blueprints of different laboratories and greenhouses for a moment, before his attention was redirected towards the stage, where the man in the bespoken black suit and matching tie was pointing at one projection after another, never letting the stream of words leaving his mouth come to a halt. 

Even this far away the asset could see brown eyes sparkling with joy while answering questions about some gadgets he had installed. The asset couldn’t tear his gaze away from the mans’ bright smile turning mischievous, when he made a joke causing the audience break out into laughter, from the way the short man directed everyone’s attention, like a conductor leading an orchestra, from the way he moved on stage, like he owned the world. It was mesmerizing and like everyone else, the asset kept his gaze trained on the man who had not once stopped talking since he had stepped on stage.

An eerie feeling of familiarity rushed through the asset. The blue of the screen made of fiber turned into red curtains. The brunet moved into someone the asset didn’t know, a man dressed in slacks held in place by braces over an oil-stained shirt. He was talking about the future, about technology they would use, about the progress engineering would make. Some of the displayed gadgets the asset knew. Some of the models looking like children’s ideas come to live, but the man had a similar gleeful expression about them all, like the suited man did have when someone had asked him about the power supply of the building. 

The asset shook his head, but the images of the two scenes were changing back and forth making it difficult to stay focused. The unknown man on a make-shift stage continued to talk about new inventions that were to come, that would ease the life of so many and the asset felt a curiosity within himself that wondered, what the future the man was talking about would look like. The image began to blur again, just like the feeling of curiosity within the asset’s chest. Was this a memory? The need to see and find out about a future, that seemed to long ago, still lingering in the assets mind like the smoke of a dying candle.

His vision cleared again and he focused on the suited man, still talking and waving through the air with a bright smile. The asset listened to this man’s visions. It was like seeing the faded picture in his mind coming back to live, only this time there was something else burning up inside the asset beside the curiosity as he watched the other man. Why was the others laugh making his heart race? Why was the brunets light voice promising a bright future making the asset believe him? He didn’t know the man, did he?’ 

For a short moment the brunet on stage paused and looked up into the asset’s direction, a solemn expression hushing over the man’s expressive face, before turning back to face the audience again. ‘I just hope, that this sanctum of budding knowledge will help us to face the obstacles we are currently facing. Not only on the scientific side, but also those within our society. This centre was built for everyone searching knowledge with no regards for age, background, heritage, gender, sexual orientation or any other limitation you might face. Everyone deserves a chance to see and build their own future.’

The audience, which had been silent for most of the mans speech roared to life, a thunderous applause filled the air. The crowd was cheering and chanting the brunets name, who waved at his audience, a smile brighter than the sun shining through the half-lit hall. The asset let out a shaky breath, he hadn’t realized he had been holding. His heart was racing in excitement as the words spoken with so much confidence replayed themselves in his head over and over again. ‘Everyone deserves a chance to see and build their own future.’ Was that including the asset as well? Was there a chance for him to see the future the man with the gleaming brown eyes and the warm, confident voice had been talking about? 

The asset was still sitting on the steel beam, numbed by the idea of a future, that seemed so unreal and yet close enough to touch, long after the last applause had faded and the curtain ad fallen. A sharp ache in his chest, that shoot through the asset, when the sharp light of the hall was turned on again, pulling him out of the little bubble of futuristic visions the brunet had created on stage. In the light the asset could see the smears of blood on his hands, the body bag behind him, the riffle still aiming at the orator’s position that was empty now. There was no future lying beneath him, there was only the present and his mission the asset had yet to fulfill. The realization stung worse than the cut of a knife, but the asset shoved the hurt to the back of his mind. The asset was Hydra’s property, they would use him as needed and he would follow orders as it was expected. The brunet’s future wasn’t the one a tool like him was to face. 

When the hall was almost empty, the asset quickly packed up the evidences, that could compromise the mission, before making his escape through one of the fire exits. It took longer than expected. The dead-weight over his shoulder making it difficult to keep balance while climbing down the backside of the building. The asset didn’t look back when he left the compound, where the after party was already in full swing.

A week later the news all over Italy were filled with an unsolved murder, when a headless body was found on the riverside of the Adige. Around the same time the assets handler had the missing head delivered to an address in Guatemala. 

After his mission report the asset had been left in his cell. The brunet’s words sill echoing through the back of his mind mockingly and yet the asset couldn’t stop himself from listening to this steady voice promising better days to come. The door of his cell swung open and he was led into the room he had woken up in, the cryo-tube already open. The asset stepped in without resistance. It wouldn’t have a point. This was his future. 

He barley felt the needles piercing through his skin, or the numbness starting to reach into his body. The door closed and the asset watched frost patterns build on the glass surrounding him as cold began to spread further, stiffening his muscles, his heart rate decreasing rapidly. Unconsciousness began to claim her stake as the asset allowed himself a last thought of a future, he would never see.

**Author's Note:**

> Ты убьешь его выстрелом в голову и принесешь мне голову. Я покажу им, что происходит с теми, кто бросает нам вызов. : You will kill him with a headshot and bring the head back to me. I will show them what happens to those who challenge us.


End file.
